New blog - hooray!!!

After numerous frustrated sighs, impatient finger taps, lost posts and battles to find anyone that could help, I admitted defeat.

Nelly's Eggs is no longer my live blog. It is saved & stored to look back on in the future as a wonderful record of all that happened in 2011 (realised that you can export your blog and save it on your hard drive so although hopefully still here I feel better knowing it is backed up too). 

And (repeat line one up to 'I admitted defeat') I finally have a brand new blog. Annoyingly this means that I now need to link up again with all my favourite blogs, but if that means I can post pictures and write again so be it.

If you are still interested in keeping in touch you will find the stories continue at Not Just Nelly.

Hoping I will hear from you there...

Nelly x

Dam shoes!

Mabel has issues with her new shoes, well in fact the whole process of wearing shoes.

Now I realise that in years to come this will very much change in the opposite direction but right now she will do anything to get them off. And no matter how tight I do the buckle (that's right buckle) somehow she can still wriggle her foot out. Last week I realised this too late as she threw one across the floor in John Lewis. Of all places!


And in her bid to remove them she also ends up having a good chew. The other day in the car I could hear her frustration at not being able to get them off then it all went quiet. I turned to find her sucking the bottom of one. She walks outside regularly now and the soles are pretty dirty on account of me encouraging her to get messy (bid to even out OCDD, aka OCD Dad).
"Argh man Mabes" I shouted back, "Out of your mouth"
She mumbled something on the lines of "take them off then" under her breath whilst by now slightly dirty coloured saliva dripped onto her coat. Am I the only parent who has to remove shoes on car journeys?


Notably whilst walking outside she has no problem with them, just when she stops. 


And unfortunately I too had my own shoe drama at work this week.


My place of work has a very large atrium entrance with offices pretty much all the way round the outside. Said area is normally pretty busy, it houses a security desk, lots of people milling, cash machines, seating area etc etc.


Now you know when you have a pair of shoes that need re-heeling but you haven't got round to it so they make a click when you walk. I'll be honest they aren't expensive enough to bother. But they are leopard print, comfy and do make me feel slightly brighter when wearing all black, on say, a Monday.


I was on my way out of work last week (busy time of day, lots of people also leaving) coming down the escalators that run through the middle of the atrium when one of the dam shoes got stuck in a ridge. Now of course I didn't know this until I pretty much flew off the last step (desparately trying to stay upright). Oblivious, I went to step off and my foot wouldn't come with me.


In my panic (because of course I did panic, everyone remembers the story you were told as a child of someone getting stuck on an escalator) I had saved my foot but left the shoe behind. Now 3 or 4 steps beyond the escalator bottom I looked back to see my shoe 'bobbing' around at the end, much like something left at the end of a supermarket conveyor belt. 


I considered just carrying on walking but then what if my heel-less shoe was left on the security desk for its owner the next morning. Or more to the point I would have to hobble in to collect Mabel from nursery in one shoe. 


So I limped back (how hard is it to retain dignity wearing just one heel?), waited for someone to come down after me (mortifying, I could see the smile he was trying to suppress) and picked up my shoe. Then with as much composure as I could muster (including a 'faux' searching my bag for something to avoid the eyes of anyone) I replaced my shoe and strided out.


Shoes, who needs them?


(Still having issues with images,not sure if these have worked)

Back in the game?

As you know I have had ridiculous technical issues with my blog which have meant I have been completely out of the loop for ages now.


As a result I kind of fell out of love with it, partly also due to a complete lack of time and feeling perhaps I had run out of things to say (as if).


Well, a couple of things have spurred me on to get back in the game...


The first, a double blind date with Fee to meet Emily who writes the fab blog Unravelled. Fee will no doubt have pictures so I will leave it there but shall we say the date seemed to go really well (oh God, hope this isn't one of those situations like in Guardian magazine where one party clearly had a better time than the other, though to be fair with it being the Guardian they are generally all quite PC and middle class polite so maybe I am o.k?) Anyway our lovely coffee date reminded me of what blogging can bring. 


The second, well I just missed the other blogs I used to read so regularly. The stories, the inspiration, the photos, the giveaways (though I was yet to win one). All such good fun. I had made my peace with not continuing my blog as a diary, since my initial goal was to blog about my pregnancy and I actually made it through Mabel's whole first year. But I didn't seem to have any extra time through stopping and actually I do find writing quite cathartic sometimes.


So here I am trying again. Not going to get frustrated. Not going to get all 'shutters down' if I can't upload a picture. Going to try on blogger and then if it doesn't work commit to setting up a new blog after today and linking it across. 


Oh and there was a story I meant to tell...


 It goes a little like this. Mabel and I started swimming lessons this week. I thought I would be all organised and put my swimmers on under my clothes prior to going and when I got there was really glad I had since the changing rooms were communal and tiny (it was at a hotel pool). The lesson went really well and Mabel, despite being the eldest by 6 months and therefore looking and sounding like a hooligan, did brilliantly with her first underwater swim.


Anyhow, we all left the pool and huddled into same said small changing rooms. Conscious that my baby (yes I know she is a toddler, in denial) could walk I let the others use the main bench along the middle and I stood awkwardly against a sink on one side. Mabel was far from pleased with the scenario of being changed on a towel on the floor but I persisted and set her up with a snack whilst I got dressed.


And then I realised the error of my previously organised ways. I hadn't brought any underwear. 
Nothing.
No knickers, no bra. What the hell was I going to do?
Stood there in a dripping wet bikini I eyed up my options in a slight state of panic. There was a toilet. But I couldn't leave Mabel in the communal area perched on a towel surrounded by an otherwise wet floor. And taking her with me was surely not feasible both on a hygiene and space front.


There was nothing for it. I would have to wait until everyone else was ready then get dressed. 
I pretended to be tidying up my things, fed Mabel some of her fruit (was looking at me like, 'back off, I want to feed myself thank you). But they were taking ages. All had young, screaming babies to dress and there was only so long I could stand around looking odd and now cold. 


So in my wisdom I decided to try and hold the towel up with my chin and pretend to put on my knickers followed by my jeans. Yep that's right, I mimed putting on underwear (which according to my brother is worse than just pretending I always go commando). 
It seemed to go o.k, there was a slight issue around zipping my jeans up in a hurry which I'm sure you can appreciate  (why do people go commando?) but at least I was half way there. I turned to pop my towel on the sink whilst I 'pretended' to get a bra and realised my biggest error of the day.
I was stood in front of a whopping great mirror. I had just mimed putting on underwear in front of a mirror. 


Devastating. 
I didn't bother with any further amateur dramatics, just shoved on my vest and felt the relief of it being a dark blue stripe and not white or more see through.


It crossed my mind to just announce to the group,
"argh I've done that thing where you forget to bring your underwear, ha ha" but just wasn't sure how it would go down. You don't want people to not laugh or worse think you are looking for offers of borrowed knickers. Or offering to try and help in some way. Argh just too cringy. 


So I don't know if I can go back. Well I do. It costs us £10 a week and luckily my frugality overshadows my pride / self respect. Hmm something in that!

Gorgeous Edinburgh, again...

Hmmm, now as I start to write this blog post I have not as yet come across the old egg timer / error message. I don't want to get carried away but maybe I am going to be able to write a blog post. Don't want to get carried away, maybe it was my threat of having to start a whole new blog????

Going to give it a try before continuing...

Just a year ago...

The laptop battle has been won, well actually lost in that we ended up admitting defeat and getting a new one. So you would think I could get back to blogging. Well apparently it is not just my laptop causing me problems. Twice using the new laptop I have gone to save and lost all that I have written. To my complete frustration and disappointment. On one occasion I announced to G Kisby that I was never going to blog again (‘glad you are being so reasonable’ he responded, dam him and his rightness). So I am still feeling a little disillusioned with it all at the moment but desperately don’t want to miss logging such a key event in our lives so hopefully this at least works….

Has anyone got any idea who/how you contact google about blogger issues? I keep getting an error message when I go to post with a reference code but despite having visited the forums/ contact the help options I don't get anywhere.... argh! Surely there is someone you can email?

Anyway, no pictures, since error message still flashing up every few minutes so not sure this is going to work...

Post written last week, Wednesday 25th Jan!

A year ago today…

We were just starting out on our crazy journey of parenthood. It has undoubtedly been the craziest, happiest (most of the time), hardest (some of the time) most amazing year of our lives.

Our baby turned one today so we were both on holiday from work to spend the day as a family.

We had a very enjoyable pub lunch (o.k maybe that part was more for us) followed by a great time at a local play centre. Mabel was treated with her favourite fish pie dinner and some highly non nutricious chocolate mousse.

This evening we reminisced about how our lives had changed and whether we had indeed parented the way we envisaged all those months ago. The ‘bubble’ of the those first few months, the constant walking to get her to sleep even just for half an hour in the day, giddiness when she started smiling, lying on the bed willing her to roll over for the first time, the mornings with her lay on my knee in bed whilst I ate cereal and chatted to her about the day ahead, her asleep on my chest whilst I wrote blog posts, first learning to turn pages and actually enjoy a book…too many memories to mention"MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">

And at one year old what is our gorgeous girl doing?

And yes I think we have parented the way we hoped. We undoubtedly over stimulate, probably over indulge, never without the best of intentions. But we also support each other in making joint decisions about her life, agree on our limits and how to manage the challenging times, talk about what is important.

Aside from our family day out we have also celebrated her birthday with a joint swim party with our friends whose twins turned one the same week, a play date with her NCT baby friends and a small family party on Sunday (a separate post to follow...hopefully).

And at one year old what is our gorgeous girl doing?

Well she walked a few steps on Monday night but has done nothing since. She continues to amaze us with her attempts at talking – ‘a poo’, ‘sit?’ (what is it?) and climbing.

Everythi-language: EN-GB;">Right the error message is driving me mad, I am off to try a few more email addresses to get this fixed!

Broken...

So it turns out it wasn't just our laptop that was broken... My blog is just not working. I can't post... So I keep trying and my backlog of reads stack up... It is so frustrating since when I get ten mins to update I instead spend the time battling to get it working. Oh well, I will keep trying and if this is published maybe there is some hope?

A big fat Christmas catch up

Due to some very frustrating laptop issues (still just hoping we can retrieve our photos, back them up, do it now!) here is a great big, late, picture-less Christmas catch up. Including Mabel turning 11 months old and an older post previously on decorating the tree.

We spent Christmas morning at home, Mabel had yet another virus which meant she didn't fancy opening any presents or eating pancakes for breakfast, we very much ate enough for her and indeed the entire country. Then suitably dressed in a red outfit, Mabel that is, we headed over to Manchester where we stayed in / took over Grannies house for the rest of the week (thanks Mum).

I discovered that some of the Christmas excitement from your own childhood is reignited upon becoming a parent. Opening their presents is as exciting as if they were your own, I took in the twinkling lights as if seeing through her eyes for the first time and they were all the more bright. I can't wait for such times as staging, sorry, welcoming a visit from Santa.

We received gorgeous presents; books, clothes, a bag for nursery (auntie Fee nearly crashed the car when I told her that once I took spare clothes in a carrier), her first doll (currently sporting a scratch from being thrown across the room, hoping empathy kicks in any time), bath toys and messy play stuff. Great food ( the legendary boxing day ham stepped up a gear with home made coleslaw & pickles), great drinks (2011 saw the return of the snowball, yum) and great company, lots to be very grateful for.

We returned to Hudds for New Year and as usual splashed out on good food and champagne. One of G Kisbys resolutions is to live for the moment and stop hoarding i.e You shouldn't die with champagne in the fridge. So we glugged Bolinger and due to a distinct lack of drinking throughout the previous year both then sat on the sofa struggling to stay awake. Party!!! We made 11.15- said with genuine amazement. And we also made some resolutions for 2012...

One of them was the vague and top line, 'be more organised'- as I said, too much alcohol.

I'll post them on the blog when we get round to deciphering what they actually are...ah the irony!

Oh and in the middle somewhere our baby turned 11 months old. She is attempting loads of new sounds, in fact she doesn't shut up. Think she has realised she needs to keep going to get a word in edgeways. She will stand on her own but so far no steps without the aid of a walker. Opening and closing are her favourite games, her fingers have little red marks where I have been too slow to avoid a minor slam. The dishwasher opening is a sound that will have her crawl at speed from anywhere downstairs. Like a hawk. You literally have a minute to load before her pesky little fingers arrive. We finally clap and wave. It just gets more and more fun...

Deck the halls...

Old posts, having finally accepted we will have to buy a new laptop I will publish picture-less...

Last weekend Christmas launched in our Huddersfield abode.
Normally,due to our combined love of this season, we do this a week earlier, so I was really giddy about getting started.

First stop, get our tree.

Now, we have a little history with trees. Ever since we first got together and g Kisby bought me a real tree for my bedroom at home. I loved it, loved the gesture, loved that every time I looked at it I was reminded of us. The tree however did not love me and literally dropped all it's needles within a week. It turned into a Christmas twig, to be fair if it was 2011 it would have been bang not trend. In 2000 it was very much not.

Then over the years we have continued to have drama. There was the year on our old house where g Kisby got carried away and bought a huge tree which when the net opened in our front room meant you couldn't see the tv and had to shimmy to get out the door. In a strop he announced we had to take it back. I got upset at the idea of a tree being unwanted and pleaded for us to keep it. I then realised he had no chance of now getting the large tree sans net back in the car so we ended up sawing off one side. It was an intereting look.

There was another year where size clearly mattered and we drove home with me sat with my head on my knee and a tree on top.

Then last year we got home to realise that our stand didn't fit and therefore the tree wouldnt stand up. G Kisby went out in the snow to try and saw it, I made useless suggestions like, "couldn't it be wedged with bags of sugar" and in the end we had to abandon ship and make a trip to b and q the next day to buy a new stand. Normally on these occasions g Kisby tries really hard not to get mad, I try not nearly hard enough not to humour his frustration, and the tree decorating event starts pretty quiet until in dolce jubilo, his favourite Christmas tune (what?)comes on and all is forgotten in favour of singing.

So this year what could go wrong? We were going for a smaller tree on account of the child, we had two stands, the decs were out of the loft ready, we even made a pretty quick decision on the tree itself ( g Kisby normally spends about an hour looking at every angle). He is a huge fan of the tree.

I tell you what could go wrong...trunk too big for the stand. What the hell. Our trunk was fat and a little wonky(is that ever good?) G Kisby stayed remarkably calm. An hour later he was using a meat cleaver, in the kitchen, to hack at the edge.
On the tip of my Tongue... "erm maybe a job for outside"?
As a large chip is made right in the middle of our wooden floor.

Anyhow it all worked out. We just have a 600page book holding it up.

We had a gorgeous time decorating. Mabel tried to eat the lights, mabel tried to eat the tree, mabel tried to eat the wrapped presents we used to barricade the tree. We watched elf, she loved the'this is not a toy' light decoration I bought for her and G Kisby only once asked for her to held back so he could check how even his lights were.

Let the festivities begin...